Reckoning
by Ryoken
Summary: When someone comes seeking revenge, the Ronin Warriors are unwittingly picked off one by one. Can the Warlords be convinced to help, or will they remain on the sidelines while they deal with problems of their own? Rated M for explicit content.
1. Firestarter

Disclaimer: I don't own the YST/RW characters.

* * *

Cale sat beneath a lone tree surrounded by his most recent destruction as empty, mangled suits of armor littered a silent battlefield. He looked into the sky of eternal twilight, sighing as he dropped his eyes back to the earth.

The mortal world was safe from the Nether World but with Emperor Talpa's death came an unavoidable upheaval by its citizens. The peace that he and the others sought to bring to the land was thought laughable by the general populace. Strength and power were all that mattered here and personally, he didn't see how that was ever going to change.

Kayura had taken to the role of leadership well, subduing the few lords and daimyos that dared to oppose them with little effort. Instead, they had turned to fight amongst themselves and while that was business as usual, occasionally a platoon of soldier would get a little too close to the city. When that happened, it was their job as her generals to put them in their place and remind them who was in charge. At first, it had been fun to destroy whole swaths of enchanted suits of armor. Now that the novelty had worn off, it was just another chore for the Warlord of Darkness; no one here posed a real challenge anymore.

His demon-bred horse whinnied quietly nearby. Setting his helm down, he fished around his small pack for something to eat. His horse padded over and began nudging the warlord, looking for food.

Cale sighed at his onigiri, biting into it anyway. Eating was more of a hassle than he wished to admit, and _he_ was the least picky out of the four of them. He didn't derive pleasure anymore from food, it just wasn't as satisfying as it used to be. Did it have to do with his newfound freedom or something else?

His horse shook its mane, pawing the ground. "Don't start begging; you don't need food to survive. Stupid beast," Cale grumbled, pushing the horse's head away.

Unexpectedly, it snorted, looking to the horizon.

Cale scowled and stood up. He jerked the reins in his hand. "What is wrong with you, there's nothing…" His eyes followed the pointed ears of his steed to the horizon.

A breeze carried the bitter tang of smoke, rising from a point near the northern distract of the City of Desire. He could just see the red licking its way into the sky.

_How the hell did I miss that?!_

He stuffed the last of the onigiri into his mouth before grabbing his helmet. The demon horse pranced in place, anticipating the race through the grasses. A thin thrill of pleasure and fear warred for dominance as Cale strove to meet the burning flame that threatened to consume his home.

…

When the Warlord of Darkness arrived, he found to his relief that the fire was outside the city in a field used for farming, and his fellows were already on the scene. Sekhmet was directing troops with buckets of water to contain the flame closest to the city proper. Dais had taken a contingent of soldiers with scythes and kamas to cut down foliage and crops that could provide more fuel for the blaze. He didn't see Kayura, but he didn't have to; he knew she had to be nearby somewhere.

"Cale!" Ah, there she was. He turned his head upwards to see her supervising from the top of the city wall. "With everyone distracted, I need you to make sure we aren't taken by surprise! Circle the city. Nothing gets in!" With a single nod, the Warlord veered the horse about and kicked into its side again, spurring it into a gallop.

With the fire at his back as he rode the length of the wall, the dark-haired man was dead set on fulfilling the one task he'd been given: Protect the city. He felt something familiar in his chest and quickly recognized it for what it was. It was adrenaline, pumping through his veins like an addictive drug, and when he turned a corner to see soldiers fighting on the south side of the city, a wicked grin stretched along his features.

Abandoning his horse, Cale used the saddle as a launching point to catapult himself above the battlefield, his nodachi singing as he pulled it from its sheath.

"Black Lightning SLASH!" Lightless streaks of energy plummeted onto the hapless souls who had been thrown at the gate as their metal armor twisted and shrieked, the spirits within released from their bonds with equally shrill screams. Whatever soldiers managed to survive the dark bolts raining from the sky, Cale quickly dispatched with a wild glint in his eye, and when the last fell to his blade, he found himself looking around desperately for more. Scowling, he made for his steed and stepped up via the stirrup, sword still in hand. As he rode off again in search of new prey, the Warlord of Darkness basked in the sweet satisfaction of destruction he left in his wake, a sensation he wished would have no end.

* * *

"Well, we lost several dozen foot soldiers at the southern wall, thanks in no small part to a particular loose cannon," Dais reported, side-eying the man sitting in red subarmor, but he looked unapologetic. _Typical._ "But the walls held fast, and no other attempts were made." His one-eyed gaze settled back onto the Lady Ancient. "The damage from the fire, however, was more severe. The city was spared with only scorch marks, but the harvest is ruined."

"How much food do we have left?" Came her thoughtful reply. The four of them had gathered in a chamber with a long low-sitting table with pillows and cushions littering the tatami mats and scrolls and maps scattered along the tabletop. They used it to convene and share information while the reconstruction of the throne room went on, but none of them were willing to admit that the place brought back memories best left forgotten.

"Enough for two weeks, unless you want to have rice for every meal and nothing but," Sekhmet answered, sitting up straight and arms crossed over his chest. "It could be stretched for three in that case, but we would be pushing our luck."

"Then…we sow new seeds, starting now," Kayura suggested, bringing a hand to her chin.

The Warlord of Venom was the first to veto the idea with an exhausted sigh. "Even if we did, it would take weeks for any of it to be edible. We'll starve first."

She bit her lip, her brow furrowed as she tried again. "What if we ration what we already have?"

"I already factored that in when I gave you my estimate, Lady Kayura. We just don't have enough food to-"

"All right," she threw up her hands in exasperation. "Then instead of shooting down my proposals, why don't you offer us some suggestions?"

He frowned, clearly unimpressed with her outburst. "You won't like it."

"Try me."

"…The human world has-"

Her slender hands slammed down on the table. "_No_. Absolutely not!"

"I did say you wouldn't like it."

It was Cale's turn to speak up as he leaned forward. "I realize you don't want to jeopardize the mortal realm by interacting with it, Lady Kayura, but our options are limited, and I, for one, don't plan on starving to death because you refused to be reasonable."

"I am being reasonable!" She shouted, but the awkward silence in the room was deafening. With a heavy sigh, she settled back into her seat before bringing a hard gaze back to the three warlords.

"Very well. One of you may go and purchase what we need, but that is all. Communication with humans is strictly limited to get what we need and then return. No side trips, no attempts at contacting the Ronin Warriors," Dais and Sekhmet looked at one another uncomfortably while Cale stayed stone-faced, "and no drawing attention to yourselves. Get in and get out, then we stand on our own two feet as soon as we're able."

Seeing Cale open his mouth to volunteer, Dais spoke up quickly.

"I will do this. Infiltration is my specialty, after all," he said, ignoring the growl coming from across the table.

"Fine. Take whatever gold you think you'll need and prepare accordingly. I want to get this over with so we can focus on more important matters."

"Yes, Lady Kayura," all four stood, the three men bowing as the Lady Ancient left the room.

* * *

"Is this the place?" The redhead asked from the backseat, looking out the window as she twisted a gold ring on her left index finger with her thumb. A Chinese restaurant passed them by, decorated with stylized dragons and bright colors. It was a bit on the vulgar side, she thought, but at least it was easy to pick out.

The man in the driver's seat grunted. He had a shaved head with a goatee and wore dark sunglasses over his eyes while wearing a suit tailored for his unusually large frame. She supposed that to most people he would be intimidating to look at, but that wasn't what made her uneasy.

"Well. Wish me luck, Itsuki," she said off-handedly as she opened the door. She didn't expect a response from the tight-lipped chaperone, and she didn't get one as he pulled back into traffic. Standing in front of a building next to the showy restaurant and now devoid of an air conditioner, the woman realized just how much the humidity in the air was going to make her sweat and was about to head for the door when she heard a commotion to her right.

A teenager had run into a white-haired man carrying several bags worth of groceries, and the contents had spilled all over the sidewalk. The young girl was apologizing profusely, and bystanders were kneeling to assist her in returning the displaced items to their bags. The man, who wore an eyepatch, was scowling at the crowd, muttering something she couldn't overhear. Judging by the way individuals were recoiling, he likely wanted to be left alone. She considered ignoring the scene altogether, but that look of frustration in that man's one remaining eye was too familiar an expression for her to disregard.

She made her way over and joined in helping him out, paying little attention to the kind comments made by those around her, at least until he yelled.

"I am not OLD!" _Old? Why would- Oh._ She realized she had recognized the words for 'grandpa' and 'old man' from those around her, falsely making assumptions because of the way he looked. Or maybe it was the yukata he wore? She couldn't be sure; there were some things about Japanese culture she didn't have the luxury or desire to learn. Whatever the case, she ignored the unspoken threat behind his shout and kept going even when everyone else dispersed.

"I do not need help," he growled, this time directed at her.

"I know," she said gently. She could feel his gaze bore into her, but she dismissed it, chalking it up to distrust. With the task finished, they stood back up and she was able to get a better glimpse at him. He looked young, early twenties if she had to guess, handsome too, but the circles under his eyes and the way he carried himself told her a story she was well acquainted with.

He still glared at her, but she went into a respectful bow as she spoke in a thick New York accent. "I hope the rest of your day is better." When she stood back up, his expression hadn't changed at all.

"See you around, soldier."

The stranger looked bewildered at her farewell, but she didn't stick around. There was a job to do.

…

"Welcome! Please have a seat!" Said a cheerful young man as he approached. The redhead smiled at his English; she could work her way around a Japanese menu, but it was always a relief to be able to speak in her native language. She sat at an empty booth, of which there were plenty at this hour, and looked over the menu when he handed to her.

"Can I get you anything while you decide?"

She kept her eyes on the words in front of her. "I'm always relieved when someone speaks English to me in Japan. Tea is fine for now, please."

He grinned, showing off the dimples in his cheeks. "One tea, coming right up!" Her blue eyes watched his retreating backside appreciatively for a moment before setting her attention to the list of cuisine. A gentle clink alerted her to his return as a teacup and pot were put down on the table. "If you'd like, I can come back in a few minutes while you look over our menu."

"Try tomorrow; it all looks so delicious, I'm not sure what to get," she joked.

The muscular waiter beamed with pride. "I don't blame you; it's all as good as it looks! Would you like a recommendation?"

"I think I'll go with the dumplings for now," she closed the menu and offered it back to him while he jotted down the order — _Time to go to work._ "You know, your English is pretty good. Did you spend some time abroad?"

"A little, yeah, when I was in high school," he replied, taking it from her. "My friends and I visited New York City; my uncle runs one of our chain restaurants there."

Her eyes lit up; that was her opening. "I thought the name of this place sounded familiar! I'm actually from New York City."

"Really?!" If he wasn't considered lively before, he certainly was now, her order forgotten. "Did you get to meet my uncle, Chin? I bet you did; he never could resist talking to pretty-" his face turned red as suddenly as his shoulders tensed. "I mean, I hope your experience was a pleasant one! I'll be back with your order!" He bowed and hurried off towards the kitchen in back, leaving her without time for a reply.

The American woman furrowed her brow, propping her elbows up on the table as her fingers went to fiddle with the ring on her index finger again. What happened? It was going well, he was opening up, and then he shut down at the mention of something pretty. Pretty girls? Was he shy? She couldn't imagine someone as well-toned and ripped as this guy being shy around women. Maybe it was the mention of this uncle of his. Was there some bad blood between them, and mentioning him reopened old wounds? That seemed a little far-fetched to her. Before she could think any more on the matter, she spotted him returning to her table with a tray. She put on her most pleasant smile and folded her hands on the tabletop.

"Here you are, miss, one order of dumplings," she noticed he was more relaxed than he had been, but the enthusiasm in his voice was gone.

She spoke quickly, not wanting him to escape again. "And here I thought I'd scared you away. I know us New Yorkers can be intimidating, but I didn't think we were that bad."

That got a small laugh out of him. "No, nothing like that. It was very inappropriate for me to talk about my uncle in such a way, and I apologize." He made to bow, lower than she realized was customary for a casual apology.

"How about we start over, then, hm?" She offered him her hand. "I'm Julia, but my friends call me Jules."

He seemed a bit startled but stood back up, and politely shook her hand with a smile. "I'm Kento. Nice to meet you."

"Well, it's good to meet you too, Kento. Want to sit and chat with me for a bit?" Julia extended her hand out towards the seat opposite her. She'd been hoping to see him relax at her invitation, but he hesitated.

"I really shouldn't…" He swiveled his head around, as if looking for something, then rubbed the back of his scalp, that charming grin slowly returning. "But yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

* * *

The sound of metal clashing against steel rang loudly from the courtyard, echoing for all in the vicinity to hear. The Warlord of Illusion sliced a kama blade repeatedly across the empty shell of a grunt with blind ferocity, gritting his teeth. He wore only his subarmor, but it was all he needed to take out the growing agitations in his mind. He needed _control_, and the more he turned the day's events over in his thoughts, the more furious he became.

Being caught off-guard by that little urchin girl was one thing. It was irritating and having to pick up all his supplies from the ground was a delay that irked him, but he could deal with that. No, what kept him from putting his temper back in check were those voices.

He let the sharpened edge of his weapon squeal painfully in his ears as he dragged it across the object of his frustrations; all of those people were crowding around, smothering him with their consoling like he was a lame animal. Dais was a warrior, someone to be feared and respected, and all he could hear, all he could think about were those _names. Old man. Grandpa. _

With a fury, he flipped the kama in his hand and sliced lengthwise along the shredded metal armor, and it fell to the ground with a loud crash, split cleanly in two. Breathing heavily, he clutched the weapon tightly in his hand and chucked it with all his might at the pile of unidentifiable steel, sending small metallic fragments in all directions. Even though he shielded his one working eye from his folly, a small cut formed on his neck from a stray piece of debris.

The warlord barely felt it, but he wiped the blood away with his thumb. His gaze settled on the red stain, and he remembered that there had been at least one human there with some sense, a human with hair as red as the blood on his hand. Soldier, she'd called him. He hadn't bothered to take in too many details about her, as preoccupied with his anger as he'd been, but he remembered her voice had a strange accent. He closed his eye, trying to reconstruct how she looked.

Red hair, bright as blood, that much he recalled. It was braided and fell over her left- no, right shoulder. She had stray hair left out of the braid like bangs, and the left side of her head was shaved, but not to the skin. Though her eyes weren't the characteristic almond shape of the Japanese, he remembered that the makeup she wore around them was a vibrant purple. It almost reminded him of Sekhmet in that regard, though that was the only thing they shared. Her lips had been painted a dark color, though he couldn't recall what, nor could he remember the exact color of her skin, though it was a lighter tone, of that he was sure. The most he could remember about her clothes was that she wore a black leather jacket of some kind, a strange choice given that the day had been unbearably humid, covered in yellow-colored metal buttons and such. There was something else, too, something that glinted off the sun from her hand. A ring or bracelet, perhaps.

Dais grasped around his brain to remember more, but that was all he could dredge up. When he opened his eye to the quiet courtyard, he realized that he was no longer fuming as he had been. He allowed himself a smile as he stood there, beads of sweat settling on his brow. All he'd needed was a puzzle to solve, and he was back to the calm and collected Warlord of Illusion that he prided himself in being.

The crunch of dirt and gravel under heavily armored boots drew him from his thoughts. "Finished tearing our troops apart?"

His smile vanished as he turned to face the Dark Warlord. "I would never be so wasteful."

Cale sneered as he kept a healthy distance between the two of them. "Right, because we couldn't possibly have found a spirit to inhabit the suit someday."

"What do you want?" Now that he had reigned in his temper, Dais was eager to get back to his duties.

"Am I so transparent?" He chuckled darkly. With a laid-back stride, the fully armored warlord approached him until he was within arms-length of the white-haired male. "I know you don't care to visit the human realm. Why not let me take over the task of getting supplies?"

The spymaster furrowed his brow, crossing his arms over his chest; Cale was too easy to read, but he'd indulge him for now. "Why do you want to go so badly that you'd beg me for the opportunity?"

The dark general's scowl gave him cause to smirk. "Begging?! I offer you a favor, and instead, I'm met with insults?"

After the day he'd had, there was no way Dais was about to make this easy for him. It was something of a beloved pastime for them to infuriate one another, and he was long overdue for a bit of fun. "No need to be ashamed, Wolf; it wouldn't be the first time you had to supplicate yourself to get what you wanted, and I'm sure it won't be the last."

Dais could practically hear the man's teeth-gnashing beneath his helm. He shoved an armored finger against the illusion master's chest as he spoke with a low growl. "Don't patronize me, Spider; you may have been suckled with a silver spoon, but your dietary choices are appalling."

Now it was Dais' turn to glower as he clicked his tongue in annoyance. This game was losing its appeal already. "If you want to try navigating through swarms of humans to find suitable sustenance for the four of us, then please, be my guest. We shall see if you can do any better, Lord Culinarian." He brushed past the warlord to make for his quarters, leaving Cale grinning at his back. He was partly glad to have washed his hands of the task but worried what the impulsive man might do when left to his own devices in a city full of people.

* * *

A black sedan with tinted windows pulled up quietly in front of a small apartment complex on the outskirts of Tokyo. When the engine cut, Julia and Itsuki stepped out into the muggy night air, shutting the doors behind them. The redhead looked upwards, trying to pick out a particular apartment with little success as the large man stepped beside her.

"Do you have everything you require, Miss Mitchell?" Came a deep voice from his throat. She glanced at him, hands in the pocket of her jacket, her thumb fidgeting with her ring again.

"Just about," she turned away to pull out the passenger's side door and removed a small purse. From within, she removed a bottle of eye drops and a mirror, then sat down. With her head tilted back, she carefully squeezed out several drops across her lower lids, then rubbed at each with the palm of her hand. Dark makeup came away smeared on her hands as it mixed with the eye solution.

Checking herself in the small hand mirror, she stood up and looked to her partner. "How do I look?"

For the first time, Julia saw the menacing man look uncomfortable as he shifted his weight, scrunching up his mouth. "…A mess."

She rewarded him with a little smirk. "Good. Now, I'm going to need a favor here, Itsuki. Think you can smack me across the mouth, maybe draw a little blood?"

Julia didn't think he could look more unsettled than he did right then. He removed his sunglasses with a heavy sigh, his brow furrowed as he revealed hazel eyes.

"Is this really necessary, ma'am?"

"Well, I can't very well do it myself, now can I?" She smirked, giving him a quick pat on his arm. "I've got to sell this, and there's no better way to play damsel than with signs of abuse. So come on, hit me. I can take it."

Itsuki let out an exasperated grunt, the closest thing she'd ever heard to frustration from the stoic figure, then struck without warning. The flat of his palm connected with the lower half of the right side of her face with a resounding smack, sending her stumbling. She shook the stars from her eyes as she stood back up, checking herself in the mirror again. The skin was already starting to redden, and while there wasn't any blood visible, she could feel the muscle swelling.

"That'll do. Thanks," she idly commented, using her free hand to loosen hairs from her braid to complete the look. Replacing the mirror, she set the purse over her shoulder.

"I'll call you when the job's done. It's apartment C-2, right?"

"Yes."

"If I don't come back in ten minutes, assume things went south," without waiting for a reply, Julia rushed the nearby stairwell, taking the stairs as quickly as she dared.

By the time she had reached the third floor, the C level apartments, she was a little winded. She hurried down the hall, glancing at the numbers until she found the one she wanted and immediately started frantically banging on the door with an open palm.

"Please, if there's anyone there, I need help!" She looked around quickly, though there was no one in the hall to see. Another rapid knocking from her hand, and the door was thrown open. Though she had known what her target looked like, his sudden appearance still drew a surprised gasp from her lungs.

A veritable black mane of hair framed the man's face, the length of it tied loosely at his neck while he sported an inch worth of facial hair in the form of a full beard. A black tank top and knee-length shorts with a red flannel jacket tied around his waist completed the look, but it was those bright blue eyes, focused and determined, that caught her off-guard.

"Y-You have to help me, please let me hide here, he's coming for me!" Julia pleaded in a hushed tone, clasping her hands together.

Without a moment's hesitation, he nodded and stepped out of the way. "Get inside quickly." She obeyed, and the door to the little apartment closed behind her.

Julia bent her head, trying to get her loose hair to cover her eyes. "Thank you so much; I didn't know what to do." A calloused hand lightly brought up her chin for those piercing eyes to inspect the red mark on her face.

"What happened to you?" There was a quiet, but indignant fury in his expression and Julia silently hoped she wouldn't end up on the business end of that look tonight.

"I…My date…He…" She squeezed her eyes tight, praying that he wouldn't notice her lack of actual tears. Pulling her face out of his grip, she then hid behind her hands as she lowered her voice to a whisper. "I just want to go home."

A strong arm came around her shoulders as she was led away from the front door towards several cushions on a floor of tatami mats. The room was sparse, but a small television was tuned into some nature show, the volume turned low, and a half-eaten slice of pizza sat forgotten on a paper plate. A typical bachelor pad, she surmised, if more stylized for living in Japan.

"Here, take a seat, and I'll get you a glass of water, okay?" He smiled gently towards her as she peeked at him and Julia had to remind herself that this man wasn't what he appeared to be.

"Th-Thank you," she sniffled, and he turned towards the kitchenette. It was now or never. As quietly as she could, the redhead pulled something out of her purse and crept up behind him while he had his back to her.

"I'm Ryo, by the way. What's your name?" He turned at the sound of Julia's foot hitting the floor and she nearly panicked. Attempting to hide the small weapon, she quickly put her arms around his waist in a hug. She could feel him tense up at the show of affection, but when his free arm wrapped around her in a show of comfort, she struck. With a quick jab, she shoved the needle of a syringe through the thin fabric of his shirt and pushed down on the flange as fast as she dared. The glass he was holding shattered in the sink while he wrestled to free himself, but by the time he untangled her arms from him, it was over.

Anger and a little fear crawled their way into his eyes when he fished the syringe out of his back, but Julia was already putting as much distance and furniture as she could between them. She kept her gaze solely on him as he took two steps towards her, stumbled, and landed on a knee.

"What…What did you…do…?" Julia didn't dare approach him, but she couldn't help the satisfaction that came over her.

"Something I've been waiting a damn long time to do. It's bedtime now, Sanada. Off to sleep with you," She smirked, waving him off like a parent dismissing a child.

"Who…" His head bobbed, and then the rest of him fell to the floor with a heavy thud, sending the empty syringe from his hand across the floor.

Julia stood still in the apartment, her eyes glued to the body that lay unconscious. Her mind was suddenly blank as she stared. An animal, some large cat, let out a roar over the television's speakers, bringing her back into the moment. She pulled out her flip phone and dialed. The receiver on the other end picked up, not saying a word.

"It's done," she hung up, knowing full well that Itsuki wouldn't have bothered with a reply. With her back to a wall, Julia let gravity take over as she slid down to the mat. Her eyes wandered back to Ryo's form, and she could feel the adrenaline wear off as shock started to settle in. _It's okay_, she told herself. _It's all going to be okay. Calm down. Breathe._ She closed her eyes while she shivered uncontrollably, taking deep, slow breaths.

She heard the door open, and she didn't have to look to know who it was. His heavy footsteps crossed the room, first to Ryo, then to her. A quiet sigh left his lips.

"…Come on. We need to leave now."

Julia nodded, forcing her legs to carry her weight as she stood up, supporting herself with the wall at her back. "I'm coming."

As they left, Ryo carried over Itsuki's broad shoulder, Julia stopped in the doorway to look back into the drab living space. Almost as an afterthought, she went back in, turned off the tv and the lights, picked up the forgotten syringe, and closed the door behind her. _The first is always the hardest_, she assured herself as the two stood side by side in the elevator. _And now it's over. I can do this. I can; I _will _get all of you for what you've done._

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to all of my betas for helping me with this story as it goes along! **


	2. Just For One Night

A/N: For those who may find it uncomfortable, there is a sex scene later in this chapter.

* * *

Though time had changed many things, street smarts seemed to carry over between centuries, and for that, Cale was glad to have been born poor. Tokyo was the current capital of Japan: That meant the people were all packed uncomfortably close together, the pickpockets could easily ply their trade, and a man could gut you like a fish with no one the wiser until it was too late. So instead, he chose to visit a town just outside of Sendai, thinking that he could wander around a smaller town with little incident. Of course, the fact that his old rival might be in the area somewhere was just a happy coincidence, and if fate guided Halo to run into him, why, that too would just be pure happenstance.

The Warlord of Darkness reminded himself that the Ronin Warrior wasn't the only reason he had come as a delicious aroma wafted across his keen sense of smell. Dais had bought them plenty of fresh vegetables and a few bags of rice to tide them over, which was all well and good, but he had the audacity to indulge in buying tea leaves. _Tea leaves!_ How was he supposed to keep his strength up with tea? No, what he wanted was the sort of thing he could sink his teeth into, something they couldn't get in the Nether Realm, and the yakitori his nose had picked up on would be a good start.

After purchasing three skewers worth from a street vendor, he sat down on a nearby bench to savor his newfound treat. When he unwrapped the weird moldable metal from his meal, he found it nearly leaking teriyaki sauce, but he paid it little caution as he took a bite. It was salty, greasy, piping hot, and by far the best thing he'd eaten in years. _Say what you will about the human world, Dais_, he thought as he chewed, _but at least they have real food._

Polishing off the first quickly, Cale had to force himself to slow down on the second. He needed to cherish every mouthful like it was his last day on Earth because it likely was. With the way Kayura was running the show, he figured he'd never get to experience good food, fine wine, or any other number of extravagances that the modern era offered. This was his chance to live like a king before he would have to trudge through his new routine for the rest of his days, and he was going to take it, consequences be damned.

All too soon, the last yakitori skewer was devoured, and the warlord found himself suckling on his fingers as he tossed the remnants into a nearby bin. _Hmm, what now? A bath, or dessert…?_ A deep, thoughtful rumble made its way from his throat as he eyed a pair of brunettes that passed by across the street. His decision made, the ex-warlord wandered through a few dark alleyways looking for the telltale signs of a red light district, the setting sun causing hidden lamps to automatically illuminate his favored gloom.

As the final light of dusk painted the sky in its pink and orange hues, Cale found himself almost forgetting what he was looking for. He hadn't seen a sunset since invading the human world and even then, it had only been once, when he was sent to prevent Hard Rock from reviving. A part of him toyed with the idea of never going back to the Nether World; he hated that damn eternal twilight, never quite day, never quite night. But he knew he'd would go back, either by his own choice or dragged back by the scruff of his neck.

Moving further towards the innermost part of the city, noise, lights, and an indescribable energy pulsed all around. A sign on a wall suddenly lit up as he passed it by, reading "Open", and another flash of light started to buzz above his head while a beat reverberated through the concrete. Further down the narrow street were tightly packed shops and shadowed doorways, some leading up, others leading down, each with cheap placards to give passersby a clue as to what lay beyond. There was, however, one entrance that lacked the painful florescent bulbs that caught his attention. It boasted a single red door with a man standing guard just outside.

Almost as if on cue, two men in dark leather jackets and torn jeans stumbled out, one leaning on the other. Something akin to music screamed from within, sounding more like noise to him but it was the smell of tobacco, booze, and sex that interested him more. He started towards the door when a woman with bright red hair stepped out not a moment afterward, her back to him.

"Tadashi, Hiroki, get your asses back here, I'm not done talking to you!" She yelled in Japanese, the words nearly choking on a thick foreign accent.

The drunker one, whichever that was, made a gesture at her. "Go home, you stupid fucking bitch! It's bad enough you order us around, now you have to ruin our fun!?"

"Yankee hick, you don't belong here!" His friend added. He picked up something near him and hurled it at her. It went wide, the bouncer eyeing the scene with a furrowed brow but made no move to intervene. For a moment, he thought she had given up as she ducked back into the building but then she returned with a finely finished wooden club.

"Oh, hell the fuck no, we are going little bitch hunting tonight, boys," she taunted, flipping the blunt weapon over in her hand before she dashed towards them.

The two ran off down the small side street, eyes wide as the soberer of them yelled over his shoulder. "You're crazy, woman! You're going to get us all killed!" When they rounded a corner, she stopped her chase and hefted the club over a shoulder casually.

"That's right, run with your tails between your legs. Fucking useless," she muttered after them, though Cale was certain she still hadn't realized he was watching.

That was until she turned towards him. Blue eyes stared him up and down and her pause gave him time to do the same. The left side of her head was partially shaved, the rest of it braided down the front. Two gold-colored rings pierced the top of her left earlobe and two studs did the same at the bottom. Two more rings went through her left eyebrow. Dark paint covered her eyelids and lips, and she wore a black leather jacket. Hers was open and well-worn, revealing a thin white shirt underneath. Her loose pants were covered in a disorienting array of earth tones. On her feet were laced ankle-high boots that looked more suited to navigating a mountain than a concrete jungle.

When the redhead seemed content with her examination, the corner of her mouth drew upwards in approval. She ticked her head silently towards the building's entrance, the doorman holding it open for her as she disappeared inside.

The Warlord of Darkness followed her in as the door let out a small squeak of resistance. Inside, the so-called music was even louder than he'd realized, and he wondered if he'd ever be able to hear anything again after tonight. Colorful couches littered the room in a semi-circle as men lounged with women fawning over them, leaving the back center open for a stage. One person stood there, a man with something over his ears as he bent over several black boxes stacked together, the source of that infernal noise. Everything was doused in that red light and all of it combined to muddle his senses.

She lead him to a long countertop with a man standing behind it, busying himself with opening a bottle. It was put down in front of his redheaded prey as she set down her club, scooped it up and put it to her lips greedily. Cale sat without invitation next to her. The bartender, a man with a small mustache and beard, paused to look between the warlord and the woman.

"I'd like whatever she's drinking," he tilted his head towards her, yelling to be heard, but she didn't look his way.

"Hold it," she made a slicing gesture with her left hand, and he saw two rings on her ring and index finger. "Let me make something clear: I'm not a hostess. So don't start offering me money, expecting me to start stroking your ego or suck your dick, no matter how much you offer me." Cale raised a curious eyebrow at her words.

So he had managed to stumble onto some kind of brothel after all. He raised his hands defensively, the sleeves of his yukata slipping down as he chuckled low. "Have I said something to offend you?"

"No. Just a pre-emptive strike," she shrugged with sly smile, taking another pull from her drink. Seeming satisfied with her answer, the bartender finally obliged the dark-haired man, opening another beer.

Cale slipped several yen towards the barkeep, hoping it was enough. The way he took it left him wondering if he'd overpaid. _Ah well_, he thought and put the beer to his mouth. It was no sake, but it was certainly better than most swill he'd tasted in his youth.

"If you don't mind my asking," he spoke in her ear, not wanting to continue yelling. "If you aren't here for work, then you must be here for pleasure. Except you don't have the look of someone enjoying themselves."

She met his gaze again as she fully turned towards him. "More observant than you look." She set her beer down, momentarily forgotten. "I was supposed to meet some people here, and then they bailed on me. Namely those two jackasses from outside."

"Friends of yours?"

"Those guys? Hell no, we're just working together. Or at least we're supposed to; Tadashi can't get his fucking priorities straight and Hiroki just follows his lead like a goddamn sycophant." She leaned against the bar on one forearm. "What about you?"

The grin he gave her was almost feral. "Pleasure; it's been too long since I've had a drink in good company."

That brought forth a laugh from her, but it wasn't the charming, tittering laughter he usually heard coming out of women's mouths. "And you came here, thinking you'd hire a girl to take care of you for a night, and found me instead, huh?"

"What can I say, the fiesty women tend to be more fun."

With an approving smirk, she raised her bottle towards him, and he copied her, the soft clatter of glass barely audible. In the background, an uproar of people laughing and cheering rose above the music for a few moments before settling back down. "Hey, Motori, pass a few shots our way, my treat."

Cale hadn't been planning on getting drunk, and some small part of him knew that he shouldn't, but his reservations were chased away as the small glasses were set in front of him. The woman tossed it back like water and he refused to be outdone — the fire in his throat burned away his inhibitions.

"Alright, so I have to ask. What's with the clothes?" She pointed at his yukata. "There a festival happening I don't know about?" She shouted, chasing the shot with her drink.

"Nothing quite so fanciful," Cale said, taking another pull from his bottle to give himself more time to think. "I'm leaving, and I don't believe I'll be returning. Obligation demands that I go, so go I must. Thought I should dress in something more traditional for the occasion, I suppose."

"Oh yeah? Where are you headed?"

He paused a moment, thinking on the simplest way to explain without going into detail. "…War."

Cale suddenly found that his new companion was much more interested in staring at her drink than him as she toyed with a metallic tag hanging from around her neck. It was as though a switch had been flipped. He hadn't intended for the conversation to turn dour. She said something quietly that he couldn't make out over the cacophony of noise, but then finished her drink.

"Come on, you need a proper send-off," she clapped him on the arm as she stood up and headed towards the door, her wooden weapon left behind on the counter.

Cale followed her outside, curious. She led them back out onto the main thoroughfare, and he noticed that the people were avoiding her eye contact and sidestepping her in a way they didn't do with him. _Is it because of the way she's dressed or because she's a foreigner?_

The warlord fell into step beside her. "Where are we going?"

"That depends. How familiar are you with the city?"

"Not as familiar as I might like."

"So you are a tourist. Alright, I can work with that."

He let out an amused, short chuckle. "I suppose I am, aren't I?" He paused when a thought occurred to him. "You aren't going to drag me all over just to see the sights, are you?"

The redhead turned around, a wicked smile forming on her dark lips as she stuck her hands into her pockets, walking backward. "I mean, if you want to, I guess we could do something as pedestrian as tourist traps." She stopped. "Or…I can show you how we Americans have fun."

"American" meant nothing to him, but he had to admit he was curious. "Alright, but this had better be worth my time, girl."

His lightly veiled threat went unheeded as she laughed. She spun about and called over her shoulder. "Lighten up, or I might start to think _you_ aren't worth _my_ time."

He wasn't interested in chasing her tail if she wasn't going to let him catch it. Where was the fun in that, after all? But it was still early, and he had time. Besides, he was enjoying the fiery girl.

"First things first, though, I need to stop by my hotel room and pick up a few things. You don't happen to have a change of clothes for yourself, do you?"

"I wasn't aware that I would be needing any, no."

"Figured it couldn't hurt to ask. No problem, we'll just pick some up along the way!"

She paused outside a small shop illuminated with bright white lights that made Cale inwardly cringe. "We should be able to find something in here." She opened the door, cool air clashing with the warm temperature outside, and stepped through it.

He pursued closely behind as a young woman behind the counter welcomed them in with a well-rehearsed greeting, the young girl's eyes glued to a magazine.

"Take a look around and see if you can find your size? I'll pay for it," his companion idly said over her shoulder, gazing around the shop full of knickknacks he couldn't recognize.

"Is this really necessary?" Cale picked at the sleeve of a T-shirt, testing the material. It was scratchy and dry, and not something he was looking forward to.

"You want to chance ruining your clothes? I thought those things were expensive."

In his day, that was certainly true, and he had no desire to damage his yukata in this venture. He had no idea what would fit, so he grabbed several, as well as something that looked akin to trousers and was about to return to the redhead when something else caught his eye, or rather his nose.

Cale strolled down the aisle, his piercing stare passing over boxes and bottles until he found what had caught his attention. Several different rectangular cubes of soap hung from thick cords on the racks before him, their different scents mixing idly in the shop. He suddenly found himself craving the heat of a relaxing bath as he picked one up to inspect. It was floral, perhaps a little too much so. He plucked up another to sniff, but that one…well, he had no idea what that was supposed to be made of, but he didn't like it. The third was much more tolerable, pleasant even; he couldn't pinpoint what was in it, but soap was soap, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten to enjoy some alongside a hot soak.

He debated purchasing more than one but decided against it. Perhaps after he left this still-nameless woman for the evening, he could come back. Maybe he would even purchase some for the others if he was feeling generous. But not for Dais; he could get his own damn soap.

He was about to look around for more things of interest to him when his new partner caught up to him. "Find something that fits?" She looked down at the assortment tucked under his arm.

"Maybe? I…" he hesitated. How did he get around not telling her he had no idea what he was doing?

The wolf had expected her to make a joke at his expense, but she instead gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't know? No need to be embarrassed, I think a lot of guys have no idea. Here, let me see."

He soon learned that it wasn't difficult; she held up a shirt to him, hummed to herself, set it aside, rinse and repeat, and the same went for the pants he'd grabbed without thinking. Then she picked up one pile and made for the clerk, who rang it all up without so much as looking up at them. After paying, they were back on the street once more, each with a bag of shiny new belongings.

"I never did catch your name," Cale asked, realizing that he had nothing to call her by. Not that he felt it was necessary to know her name, but at this point, he thought he may as well learn it.

"Because I didn't give it," her snark was back as they waited to cross a street. "I'm not really looking to get too personal, so you can call me Jules."

The light turned green, beeping at them to start walking. "I go by Cale."

"Cale?" She didn't pause in her walking, but he could see her grinning like a madwoman. "As in, that shitty ass dry vegetable that tastes like it's trying to impersonate plastic?"

The dark-haired man frowned. Vegetable? And what was plastic? "I…don't think so."

"There's got to be a damn good story behind that. Is it short for something?"

"What happened to not wanting to get too personal?" He smiled slyly. If she was going to insult his name, then he had no problem keeping its origin to himself.

"Well, shit. I guess you got me there. Keep your secrets, then, _Cale_."

As they continued to their destination, trading light-hearted slights, the warlord found that he was enjoying himself. It was refreshing to talk to someone who knew next to nothing about him; there were no judgmental looks, no fear or anxiety. He had approached her like prey, but he was starting to realize that maybe she was more predator than he'd given her credit for.

Three blocks later, Jules finally turned to go into a building. It didn't look like any hostel he knew from his day, but few things now did. There were pictures of the rooms available on a board outside, each with different themes and color. None of them looked relaxing in his eyes.

The redhead led him through the halls with ease, pausing outside of a door to unlock it. "This is me. You can change in the bathroom while I get some things together."

Cale held his breath when the door opened, but he was relieved to find it was just one of the normal accommodations; he wasn't sure he was ready to explore one of the stranger bedrooms. He looked for the adjoining chamber she mentioned, but the only one he saw was made of clear walls.

"Ah shit, that's right, weird glass bathroom. Sorry, I'm not used to the designs in these love hotels."

He just let out a throaty laugh. "I don't mind an audience, unless you're shy," he teased, not waiting for a response as he set his parcel down and started undressing from the waist up.

"Can't say that I am," is what she replied with. She was sat on the edge of the bed with her back turned to him as she fiddled with something out of his sight.

_That won't do._ The wolf came up beside her and promptly set one knee on the mattress. He towered over her as he used a hand to turn her face towards his leering smile and half-lidded blue-green eyes. "Then why aren't you looking?"

"Well," she started, returning the heated expression. "If you must know, I was trying to hurry things along so we could get to our destination." Her gaze ran over his bared chest before it returned to his face. "I do love watching a good gun show but a hotel room isn't the backdrop I had in mind for you."

Cale quirked an eyebrow but approved of her answer. He could stand to be patient for a little while longer if he got what he wanted in the end.

"Now come on, stop with the hovering and get changed," she returned her focus to what she was doing and he let her be, leaving him to wrestle with these new clothes. Fortunately, they were simple to figure out, a far cry from the complexities of a kimono, and after discovering that the first shirt was a bit too snug, the Warlord of Darkness found himself in a pair of knee-length orange pants and a whimsically painted shirt of white, pink and violet. There were words printed on it as well, but to him, it might as well have been gibberish.

"Alright, I think I've got everythi-" Jules stood, a pack in hand as she turned and immediately burst into laughter.

Cale growled; if there was one thing that made him truly furious, it was to be laughed at and ridiculed. He started to take the shirt off angrily, but the woman got herself under control and hurried over.

"No no no, keep it on! This shirt is fucking amazing; I didn't even realize what it said when we bought it," her eyes were still brimming with amusement, but that only made him wary.

"What does it say?"

He didn't think her grin could get any wider. "It says 'Who the fuck is Jesus?' in English." The warlord stared at her. Well, at least he could mirror the sentiment.

Cale smoothed the shirt back down with a hand. "Fine, but if I hear so much as a giggle out of you or anyone else, it's coming off and you can wear it."

"Deal," she grabbed the rest of his belongings and tucked them into the sack before hoisting it onto her back. "Ready?" He nodded, and the two navigated their way back out onto the street.

"Now will you tell me where we're going?" They crossed a thoroughfare, heading towards a path that wound its way up a hill.

"Sure," she pointed towards the top, and even though it was dark, he could see the silhouette of a building with familiar architecture. "That's where we're going. The remains of Aoba Castle."

"Castle ruins? What happened to that 'American fun' you promised?" If she was going to drag him sightseeing after all that, he might just clock her and take her back to her hotel room.

"Well, Cale, the site is closed at this hour. And I," she patted her backpack, walking backward to address him. "Have a little surprise for good old Masamune Date. Unless you actually like the guy; I know you Japanese folks tend to be pretty reverent about your history."

The grin on the dark warlord's face was a wicked one. Oh yes, his patience had finally paid off. "I don't know what you have planned, but I'm starting to find myself with high expectations." She shot him a smirk, letting him catch up to her as they started the climb.

Near the top, the little road was blocked by a gate painted in red, a small sign with the words "Closed" written on it, the times it was open jotted below it. Jules slipped her pack carefully through the iron bars, and then placed her back to it, knees bent with her fingers interlaced together to give him a boost. The warlord gave her a dubious look.

"No way you're getting over that fence with those wooden fucking shoes. Hurry up!" She whispered harshly. Cale rolled his eyes, using a little momentum and effortlessly bounded over the fence.

She whistled, turning around to face him. "Wow, okay, show off." It was then her turn to climb the gate. She wasn't as dexterous as he was, but she managed it with a deftness that still surprised him. With that obstacle out of the way, they reached the plateau of the site.

To their left was what remained of Aoba castle, a single guard tower in the design of the Edo period standing a solitary vigil, on the right was a terrace that overlooked the rest of the city, the lights shimmering in various colors, and in front of them, a statue of Masamune Date himself, sitting atop a steed in full armored regalia. Cale thought the pose appropriate; he looked just as straight-laced and full of himself as his descendant did.

Jules stopped in front of the statue and squatted, opening it up. "Hello, Mr. Date. So good to see you again." Out came a bottle of water, a bag of flour, and a roll of flimsy paper.

She picked up the bottle first and opened it, splattering the contents intermittently across the bronze with flicks of her wrist. "What's that, Mr. Date? Don't get your hair wet?" She jumped to try and hit his head, but it remained out of reach.

Cale was starting to understand her intentions and took the bottle from her, easily climbing up onto the slab of concrete to finish the job as he upended it over the helm. She offered him the bag of flour.

"I think you have something on your face, Date. Here, let me get that for you," he grinned, half the contents spilling onto the statue's head. He dumped the rest along the horse's back and front only to realize he had managed to get the powdery substance on himself.

Jules was already unwinding the paper roll and tearing off long sections. She handed him a few, then started throwing the streams of parchment across the muck. For his part, Cale made certain the head was sufficiently wrapped, draping a few pieces across the crescent of the helmet, then the rest of the body. When all was said and done, it wouldn't be too difficult to clean up, but the attendants were certain to be annoyed, and he felt rather satisfied to have defaced his rival's ancestor.

Cale landed back on the ground, the clop of his geta sandals echoing in the empty park. Jules had taken out a strange black box from her bag, and before he could ask, a blinding light seared his vision with a mechanical noise following shortly after.

"Agh, what the hell?!" He rubbed at his eyes, red and white spots making it difficult to see.

"Sorry, but I wanted to get a picture; I should've warned you. You ok?"

After several moments of massaging and lid-fluttering, his sight began to return. "Yes, I'm fine, but do not do that again," he growled. When he looked to his partner in crime, however, she was close. Very close.

Jules purred near his ear. "What are you going to do about it if I do?" He could feel her warm breath brush against his skin, and whatever ill-tempered thoughts he had melted away.

Cale placed his free hand on her hip, a feral smile coming to his lips. "You flirt too dangerously with the limits of my patience, girl; whatever I do to you, it will be a bed of your own making."

"Waxing poetic, are we? In that case-," and another bright light sent him reeling. He swung his arms to grab at her blindly, but all he felt was open air. He could hear her boots dashing across the cement and her playful laughter, but by the time his sight began to return, she had a good head start.

"Let's see what you've got!" She shouted, not stopping to give him a chance.

Jules ducked around a corner out of sight, but now that the game was afoot, Cale wasn't quite so hurried. Though the glare of the city lights provided some illumination near the statue, the night blanketed the rest of the park in comfortable shadows. Even without his armor, the darkness wasn't just his ally; it was a lover, its embrace swallowing him as his other senses heightened in anticipation of the hunt.

The warlord didn't need eyes to see that his companion didn't have the same advantages he did. When he rounded the guard tower at a leisurely pace, he spotted her as she crouched low in the manicured grass, sticking close behind a tree. She thought the darkness would conceal her the way it did for him; _maybe if it were anyone else, girl_, he chuckled to himself.

With silent ease, Cale gave her a wide berth, positioning himself at her back. With her in arms' reach, oblivious to his presence, he could hear the shudder of excitement in her voice as she attempted to keep her breathing calm in the still evening.

That's when he struck, one arm looping around her waist as the other went to muffle her yelp of surprise. She struggled only a little when he drew her against his body, and he could feel the goosebumps rising on her skin when he ran his tongue along the artery in her neck. The hand at her waist suddenly dove past the clothing protecting her modesty, eliciting a dampened gasp as he explored to his heart's content. Her fingers reached back to thread into his hair, gentle at first, but tightening their hold when he slipped a digit between her legs.

Cale murmured into her ear with a throaty chuckle. "Done playing games?" Her muffled moan and nod were all the response he needed. "Good." Releasing his hold on her, he pushed her wrists against the trunk of the nearest tree and ran a firm hand along her spine. He was pleasantly surprised when she obeyed his direction to bend at the waist, looking over her shoulder with a hungry smile.

The ex-warlord wasted no time with further foreplay; either she was ready for him or not and he no longer cared which it was. With a forceful yank of her pants, he exposed her skin to the warm night air and the sight fulfilled a longing in him he hadn't realized he had. He granted her a measure of mercy, content to draw out those first intimate moments slowly before his baser instincts took over.

When was the last time he'd been with a woman? Too long, he decided, as a familiar siren song played through his veins. This was what he had been after, what he craved; not some tender lovemaking but fornicating for the thrill of it. He wanted to ravish, tear, and dominate her. Judging by the sounds and curses that came from her mouth, she was reveling in it just as much as he was.

Just when he thought he was reaching his limit, the dark-haired man felt rather than heard the deep-seated moan as her lower muscles constricted. The sensation was more than enough to send him over the edge with a sigh of intense satisfaction.

When he was spent, he took his time in letting her stand back up, running a hand along her backside. He furrowed his brow when his fingers brushed over the skin between the lower end of her spinal column and her hip. It was smooth in the same way that flesh knitted a wound. A scar, and a large one. Before he could sate his curiosity, however, his companion was pulling up her pants and turned to face him.

"Fuck, that's exactly what I needed," Jules commented between heavy breaths and laughter. Cale couldn't have agreed more as he chuckled as readjusted his trousers. Then she handed him one of those flimsy satchels containing the rest of his clothes and the soap. "That was fun, but this is where we part ways."

The wolf took the bag, a little disappointed that their time together was at an end. He briefly toyed with the idea of dragging her back with him to the Nether Realm, but dismissed the idea quickly. Kayura would flay him alive if he started to seriously entertain such thoughts, and he was in enough trouble as it was.

As Jules padded off towards the exit of the park, he couldn't help grinning to himself. She was right; despite his reservations, his evening had turned out to be more than he'd expected, and he wouldn't be forgetting it any time soon.

* * *

"Finally," Sekhmet sighed as he heard the heavy footfalls enter the room. He had his back to the door as they sat in the cozy dining area, but given that everyone else was present and eating, it could have only been their missing warlord.

"Are you going to tell us where you've been? You were expected back hours-" Dais froze as he stared and Kayura's chopsticks, along with the food she had picked up, clattered back to her plate as her eyes went wide. The green-haired male, not knowing what was wrong, turned to see what had stunned them.

Cale, the Warlord of Darkness, was dressed in painfully bright orange knee-length pants and a colorfully dyed shirt with lettering on the front and carried a translucent bag in each hand. The smug look on his face could only mean one thing: He had done something he probably shouldn't have.

"What…are you wearing…?" Lady Kayura spoke, too shocked to start admonishing him.

"Human clothes," he said simply, plopping himself into his seat with a lack of grace and greedily filling his plate with the meal. They all sat in silence; none of them were quite sure what to make of him, and he seemed content to let the tension build.

"…All right, Cale, why don't you tell us what you were doing and get it over with?" Sekhmet said, returning to his food. He knew Dais and Kayura were going to break into a shouting match with the man if he didn't intercede first, and he had to admit, he was curious to find out what mischief he'd gotten up to.

The warlord in question seemed only too pleased to finally be asked. He grabbed one of the bags and upended it on the table, sending the contents scattering. Delicately carved bars of soap with soft cords threaded through each of them thumped across the wood.

Sekhmet blinked several times at the small hoard, the various scents mixing alongside the food and eventually making him scrunch up his nose. "…Soap. Hours in the mortal realm, and this is what you have to show for it? A ridiculous pink shibori shirt and soap? And you didn't even have the decency to go to a bathhouse and use it before you came to dinner smelling like a filthy animal?"

Dais finally had the presence of mind to get angry. He growled in a warning tone. "What. Did. You. Do."

Sekhmet could almost see the steam rising out of the poor man's ears. The Warlord of Illusion and the last Ancient were pedantic about the rules and staying out of the affairs of the human world, but he couldn't care less about the other realm. In times like this, though, he knew to quit while he was ahead and watch the ensuing fallout from afar.

"I'm glad you asked, Spider!" Cale said merrily. "Unlike some," he looked pointedly towards Dais. "I saw this venture for the golden opportunity that it was and decided that, in addition to a few luxuries-" he waved an arm across the soap spread. "-I should indulge in a few innocent vices before we slam the proverbial doors shut and throw away the key. Again."

That only served to infuriate the white-haired warlord more as he slammed the palms of his hands on the table to draw himself up into a half-kneeling position. He looked ready to lunge over the table and throttle him. "Have you lost your mind? Were you even listening when Lady Kayura gave us specific instructions to keep a low profile?!"

"Of course! Just because I wanted to sin a little before cutting myself off for all time doesn't mean I did it while drawing attention to myself."

The spymaster grabbed one of the bars of soap and shook it at him. "You call this not drawing attention to yourself? There must be two dozen of the damn things!" He chucked it at Cale for good measure.

It hit the loudly dressed man in the shoulder, but it was those words that irked him more than the missile. "I know you only have one eye, Spider, so you can't help but be short-sighted. I, however, am not so blind; the modern era is full of comforts that only the rich and powerful of our day could have afforded. These 'damn things' cost a pittance! There were so many with different scents and smells I couldn't choose, so I bought as many as I could conceivably carry."

Kayura had also regained her senses by now but unlike Dais' barely contained fury, she held her head in her hands, elbows leaning on the table as she closed her eyes. "I'm so glad you kept to the shadows while ignoring my other instructions and wasting our time." Sekhmet watched the small girl stiffen as she looked up with realization. "You didn't go after Halo. Please tell me you at least didn't do that."

The warlord sighed ruefully. "No, I didn't, though one final duel would have been the pinnacle of my evening." His wicked grin returned as he eyed Dais. "Although that feisty redhead did provide an arguably better one."

Sekhmet groaned as he set down his utensils. He did not need that kind of image in his brain. "Please stop, I have no desire to hear about your disgusting exploits while I'm trying to eat."

"You couldn't even stick to speaking to people only when necessary, you had to get involved with one?!" Dais's anger had been simmering while Lady Kayura spoke, but it was back in full force now.

"Yes, I did, Spider, and maybe if you ever looked past the length of your nose to figure out how to get the stick out of your ass, you'd remember what it was like to be a man! Though knowing you, you've probably never taken a woman to bed in the first place."

The Warlord of Venom knew when Cale was pushing buttons to get as much of a rise out of the spymaster as he could, and carefully scooted his cushion further away. The last thing he wanted was to take a stray punch. Why couldn't he just eat a meal in peace? But before Dais could cross the gap to inflict his wrath on his fellow warlord, Kayura intervened.

"You are, of course, aware that your behavior tonight has consequences, Cale." She had collected herself as her steely gaze and calm tone belied her fury. As the room went quiet, the two bickering warlords lost their bluster, but Dais continued to glower daggers from his good eye.

The Warlord of Darkness nodded, but there wasn't a shred of shame in his face. It was no surprise to Sekhmet; the man loved his creature comforts and didn't care a whit what anyone thought of him slaking his thirst.

"You are banned from stepping so much as a toe in the mortal world. I'm confiscating everything you brought back as well; as far as I'm concerned, it's all contraband. The clothes too. When you've finished clearing my table of soap and have changed, you're going out. Right now. We need updates on what our enemies are doing, and you are going to get that information. I want you to observe each of them and send reports. Observe, Cale, not slaughter. Am I clear enough this time?"

The wolf cleared his throat quietly. "Yes, Lady Kayura."

"Good. You can return to the castle when I send you word that you may," she stood up from her spot in the mess hall, feet padding lightly on the floor. She paused in the doorway. "Do not mistake this for leniency, Warlord. Your punishment appears slight only because I cannot afford to pull even one of you from service. Mark my words, however; pull a stunt like this again and I won't hesitate to dole out a more fitting, permanent sentence for you."

* * *

Like a child being reprimanded with no dinner, the Warlord of Darkness found himself in his room with only his neatly folded yukata and an empty belly. Dais had taken it upon himself to relieve him of his shopping bags without so much as a word, but his glare had said what his silence did not.

Cale set the clothes on his futon and pulled off the ones clinging to his muscular frame. When he picked up the silk material, however, something fluttered to the ground. He picked it up and when he realized what it was, he couldn't help but smile. It was a square photograph outlined in a soft white parchment, and there was that vandalized statue with him caught off-guard by the flash of light Jules had produced.

"Sneaky little vixen," he murmured. He hurried to finish redressing, then slipped the photo into his yukata. If he was going to be gone for a while, at least he could have this memento to reminisce with.

* * *

When the white-haired general arrived at her door, Kayura was attempting to meditate. Unfortunately, she was failing, her thoughts far too scattered with the events of the evening.

"Enter," the command was half-hearted as she opened her eyes. The rustle of those bags followed him into the room as he offered her the customary respectful bow.

"Lady Kayura, I collected the clothes he was wearing. What would you have me do with the contraband?" He had cooled off considerably, but there was still an edge in his tone that gave him away. She sighed as she got to her feet.

"…Leave it. I'll consider what should be done later."

Her choice of words earned her a small smirk from the strategist. "Don't tell me your forgiveness can be bought with fragrant trinkets?"

The young woman glared. "No. I have too much to concern myself with to deal with it right now."

"Then allow me to dispose of it for you. I would have destroyed it all as Cale watched, but he has already left us." Dais smiled a little too happily; he was testing her, but she wasn't in the mood to play his game. She was too mentally exhausted, and she let out the sigh stuck in her chest as she reached in to take out one of the bars.

"They do smell wonderful," she didn't have to bring it to her nose for the scent to hit her. It was lavender.

"You realize if you use any of these, we'll all know it. And then word will get back to Cale, and he'll never let you live it down," Dais softened his tone.

Reluctantly, she tossed the soap back into the noisy satchel. "Find a place to lock them up. At least this way, none of us will be tempted by the odor." That seemed to satisfy him and he turned to go, but then hesitated as he looked back at her with an apologetic expression.

"I am partly to blame for this, Lady Kayura. The dog goaded me into allowing him visitation to the mortal realm, and I fell for it. I had thought that perhaps his time serving Talpa had tempered his self-control, but I see now that I was wrong; a mongrel will always be a mongrel."

"Even a hound has its uses," she waved dismissively, signaling the end of the discussion and he bowed to her before leaving her line of sight.

Kayura knew she should be fuming at Cale for his insolence, and she certainly was frustrated at his blatant disregard for her authority, but she couldn't help picturing herself lounging in a steaming bath with any one of those heavenly bars.

* * *

A/N #2: A big BIG thanks to Ladygreyfist who discovered that soap and bathing were things that the Japanese loved quite a bit even way back when. This fic has had me researching a lot about what everyday life was like during the time period that the warlords were born, its interesting stuff.


	3. Subterfuge

Time to get back to work, Julia!

* * *

"How is he?" Julia asked quietly, stepping closer to the steel door.

"His vitals are well within the expected parameters," came the tired response. A Japanese man wearing a lab coat removed his glasses to rub at his eyes .

"Are we ready?"

"As ready as we'll ever be. I've checked and re-checked the dosages and made sure all security measures are in place." He took a seat in front of a console, several of the buttons lit. "Are you sure you want to be the one to do this? On the off-chance something does go wrong, we won't be able to help you until he's been sedated again."

"I'm positive. Open it."

The lanky man sighed and flipped a switch. A buzzing noise followed, and the door popped open as the cooler air within let out a hiss. "For all our sakes, I hope it goes well."

The redhead took a breath, holding it as she crossed the threshold into the small room. It was dark, save for the single florescent light shining down on the room's sleeping occupant. A hospital gurney sat in the middle of the cell, monitors beeping softly as they tracked blood pressure and heart rate, electrodes pasted all over the patient's skin. Three IV bags hung from a metal rod, their contents dripping incrementally into a vein in the man's arm.

Ryo Sanada looked very peaceful in his new surroundings. They had left him in the clothes he'd been wearing, but they had strapped him down with leather bindings from ankle to armpit, even using handcuffs in the hopes that something might slow him down if he started to struggle. None of them knew the extent of the young man's abilities beyond the destruction he could wreak, but no one wanted to take the chance of snubbing any precaution.

It wasn't until she heard the squealing and clanging of metal signaling the door being shut behind her that Julia let out that breath she held. There was no going back now. She slowly made her way forward until she stood at his bedside, her stomach churning with anxiety.

"Start the recording," she tried to make herself sound more confident than she felt as she reached for the twist cap on one of the IV bags.

"This is interview session one with subject Ryo Sanada, age twenty-four, male, black hair, blue eyes. Administering flumazenil," raising her voice to be easily heard, she did the same to another IV bag. "And administering barbiturates," she repeated the motion, then turned back to the sleeping patient.

"Here's hoping we don't die."

A few brief moments later, Ryo began to stir. Julia firmly held her ground, forcing herself to give their prisoner a gentle smile.

"Come on, Ryo, time to wake up," she called sweetly. When his blue eyes finally began to open, she nearly forgot to breathe. His gaze wandered around the room a bit before they finally settled on her. "Hey there. How are you feeling?"

His throat sounded dry and cracked as he spoke slowly. "I'm okay…I think. What's…going on?"

Julia gave his arm a gentle pat. "Relax, you're safe here. I need to ask you a few questions, is that okay?" The smile he produced was lopsided, but he nodded. "What's your name?"

"Ryo. Ryo Sanada."

"Do you remember what day your birthday is?"

"Uh, August 15th," he licked his lips, his gaze searching around again.

"What year is it?"

"1997."

"That's good. Just a few more, and you can get some rest, ok?" He nodded, only too happy to oblige.

"What's the color of your armor?"

Ryo hesitated, furrowing his brow. "It's…It's red."

"What do you call it?"

"W-Wildfire. Hey, uh, can you tell me where I am?" Julia watched as he started to look uncomfortable, his eyes cast around the room and distress becoming evident on his face. She knew it was time to stop, but she couldn't help it as the vicious words left her mouth.

"Do you enjoy playing with fire, Ryo? Are you a pyro?"

"What? No, no, that's dangerous," he pulled on the bindings, trying to sit up. When he realized he couldn't, his blue eyes widened as panic started to settle in. "What's going on?! Who are you?"

"What are you doing? Put him back under!" A voice cried out over a speaker. She growled, hurrying to obey as she turned the three IV caps in the opposite direction. Ryo was unconscious just as quickly as he had awoken.

Almost robotically, Julia raised her voice to be heard. "Lorazepam administered. Session one ended. Open the fucking door."

A red light above the portal shut itself off shortly afterward, the steel slab swinging open to reveal the tense doctor. He hurried over to Ryo but not before passing a glare her way.

"The dose didn't last nearly long enough, Dr. Hinagashi. I didn't have enough time to get any worthwhile information out of him. I want it fixed. I'll be back in two or three days," she could feel the daggers he was staring at her, but she ignored it as she left the cell.

She had let her emotions get in the way, and it could have cost her dearly. _Don't forget why we're here. Your anger, your fury can wait just a little while longer._

* * *

Kayura was beside herself. As she sat pouring over the reports that Cale had been religiously sending back to the castle, a cup of tea steeping nearby, she had to question her decisions of late. What if the Warlord of Darkness had the right idea after all?

Normally, the man found the job of observing and conveying information incredibly dull and would find means to himself entertained. That meant vulgar doodles, running commentary, and insults directed at Dais peppered throughout the reports. He even once wrote her a poem, but it was so awful she burned the report after reading it.

Now it was as though she were reading something someone else had written. Every single one was concise, relaying all the information pertinent to each situation. It was as refreshing as it was worrisome. The idea that someone else might have been attempting to pass off the report as their own had crossed her mind, but when she read over the tidbit of information that confirmed the identity of the author, she tossed the thought aside. It really was him; was this some new game he'd invented to pass the time? How had that man lived this long while being so infuriating?

Her eyes glazed over a scroll for a moment as she let her thoughts wander. She hadn't seen much of the modern age during her time serving Emperor Talpa and even less after his death. _What would it be like to walk those streets of steel and concrete? Would I be taken with the world as it was now, enjoying what it has to offer me as Cale did? Or would it offend my senses and drive me away as it had done with Dais? What about the home of my ancestors? Would it still be there, or had it been paved with black asphalt that ran like rivers through cities and towns?_

Kayura closed her eyes as she took a breath. Even just thinking about such questions was a temptation she shouldn't allow herself. What did it matter what the mortal world had to offer? Her duty was here: To keep the Nether Realm in check and, if she was lucky, transform it into a better world. Anything Earth-related was an unnecessary diversion from those goals and a distraction in this realm that could cost them dearly.

_Still…_ she couldn't deny the significant effect it had on Cale's disposition. The Lady Ancient wasn't sure if she'd ever seen him so pleased and idly considered what effects a similar leave of absence might have on the others. She thought Dais might benefit the most. The man rarely had a sense of humor and took their responsibility as custodians very seriously. She relied on him as an advisor, considering there was no one else she could turn to. What would a relaxed Dais even be like?

Sekhmet was harder to imagine. He was stand-offish, kept to himself and went with the flow as best he could. Kayura wasn't sure what might change if he visited the mortal realm; maybe he would find a hobby?

As for herself, she wasn't sure about that either. There were too many unknowns, too many possibilities for her to explore that could lead to a hundred changes in her that she couldn't afford to experience. _I shouldn't entertain thoughts like this_, she reminded herself. _Stop with the silly, wishful thinking, Kayura. You have work to do and to do that you need to focus._

A hollow voice from outside the rice paper door broke her out of her thoughts. "My lady, an intruder has been caught on the castle grounds. Your presence has been requested at Lord Dais' behest."

Kayura was immediately on her feet, snatching up the ancestral staff in hand as she slid back the door. The voice's owner, one of the many suits of armor occupied by the spirits at her command, stayed kneeling.

"Take me to him," she stated, the order automatic as all her musings vanished in an instant.

The guard led her out to the courtyard and stopped outside the commissary area where Dais stood in full regalia with several more of the armored suits standing nearby at attention. Laying on the ground in front of him was the so-named intruder, dressed in dull tan cloth and leather from head to toe, arms bound behind its back. The glow in the sockets where eyes should have been marked it as one of the many spirits that inhabited the realm, but the fact that he wasn't in typical grunt gear implied it had some measure of intelligence.

It was her spymaster that spoke up first as he saluted smartly. "Lady Kayura, I'm glad you could join us. I thought it prudent to wait for you to arrive before I started interrogating our new friend." An armored hand roughly gripped the back of the spirit's neck, earning him a glare.

"Where was he caught?" She was just starting to turn over the possible implications of an intruder making its way into the castle when Dais spoke again.

"_She_ was found attempting to raid the larder."

Kayura managed to catch her surprise before it displayed on her face. Female soldiers didn't manifest often in the Nether Realm but they weren't unheard of. The Lady Ancient had never met one herself.

She nodded at Dais. "Please, continue."

The general obeyed, his one blue eye focused on the prisoner. He spoke no command as his hand stayed on her neck, but he didn't need to; Kayura could see her struggling to free herself of the illusion.

"Why were you trying to break into our food storage?"

Her answer was stammered as she struggled against the mental intrusion and the bindings at her arms. "De…Destr…oy..it…all."

A low growl came forth from the Warlord as his grip tightened. "Which of those posturing lords sent you to do this?"

The captive's back arched as she turned her face skyward, the wrenching motion unnatural and it nearly caused Dais to lose his grasp. As strained as her words were, she laughed in ragged gasps. "Nu…No…lord…"

"Who, then?!"

Kayura watched as the female spirit's glowing eyes locked with hers and, although there were no facial expressions, she could have sworn she was smiling.

"Zusa..doun…" Glass shattered, a hissing noise following after as an eerie red smoke pooled from the ground beneath her. Dais seethed as he quickly retracted his hand, taking a step back. The two then watched as the acrid gas disintegrated their prisoner like rain on a sheet of rice paper. She barely even let out a wail as her vessel fell apart and the spirit inhabiting it dissipated, the scarlet fumes dispersing along with her.

"Where's Sekhmet when you need him," the master of Illusion flexed his fingers, looking over the damage. Kayura could see that though his hand only been grazed by the caustic cloud, the armor there showed signs of melting. She silently gave thanks that she didn't have to find out what it would have done to flesh and bone.

As Dais barked orders to fetch their resident alchemist, Kayura walked around the remains to speak quietly to the man.

"I don't suppose you've heard of this 'Zusadoun' fellow, have you?"

Dais snorted. "I was going to ask you the same. Whoever he is, if his subordinates are willing to die to keep his secrets, then he must want to keep us in the dark. I can't imagine there are too many daimyos still out there with that kind of loyalty." His gaze fell to the smoldering pile. "Such a waste; she resisted my illusions admirably."

Kayura furrowed her brow, reaching up to stroke a lock of her hair. "If she had such a powerful toxin in her arsenal, why not attack us directly? If even one of us had been caught off-guard…"

A blue eye flicked to study her, but she paid it little attention. "A good question." Dais turned to face her fully. "I will remain here to inform Sekhmet of what happened, and then begin my inquiry as to how she got so far in the first place without being caught."

She dropped her hands from her idle hair-play to address him. "Double the patrols, Dais. I want to make sure this 'Zusadoun' isn't given another opening to exploit."

There was a quiet chuff through the faceplate as he crossed his arms. "We're already spread thin as it is, but I'll see what I can do."

The Lady Ancient eyed the man's hand again. "I want to be the first to know whatever you find out. I'll be in my quarters."

* * *

Julia's stomach was doing flipflops as she paced in the shadow of a café, twisting the gold ring around her finger. There was nothing worse than waiting, the anticipation rising with every minute of silence that went by. All of her instructions had been carried out and everything was in place but it did little to calm her nerves.

The woman had met Cye Mouri a few days prior and after talking with him over coffee, had arranged to meet for dinner at a small restaurant near the shore.

Rumors began spreading about the business soon after, about the food, the cleanliness, anything that might dissuade customers from spending their money at the restaurant. The couple that owned it, the Kimuras, were sent scrambling to try to keep their finances, and their reputation, from tanking. A week before her date, she had sent one of her partners to the husband to offer him a deal.

With one last check of the time and a calming breath, Julia rounded the corner of the string of buildings that would eventually bring her to the restaurant. There, waiting in front, was the auburn-headed man, smiling as he waved her down.

"Over here, Julia!"

"Hey! Wasn't sure I was in the right place for a minute there," she hurried to close the distance and Cye held the door open for them, the cooler air immediately a refreshing respite from the summer heat.

A short woman with her greying hair in a bun on her head approached them with a cheery smile. "Oh, Cye, it's so good to see you again! And who is this lovely lady?" She teased.

He beamed, flashing her a bright smile as he extended a hand towards the redhead. "Mrs. Kimura, this is Julia. She's from the United States."

Julia smiled and raised a hand in greeting the woman. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kimura."

"Let me get you some menus and you two pick out a good spot to sit," she beamed.

Cye led the way, taking a window seat overlooking the beach. When they were settled and had placed their orders, the two began chatting about what each had been doing for the past few weeks. The way he spoke and looked at her, she had to wonder just how well she'd done her part. Soon enough their food arrived.

Julia noticed her date was looking to the kitchen with a frown. He managed to catch the wife before she had a chance to leave his earshot.

"Mrs. Kimura, is everything alright? Your husband hasn't been out to greet me like he usually does."

The older lady didn't seem concerned as she smiled, waving a hand dismissively. "Hm? Oh, yes, everything's fine. The restaurant has been keeping him preoccupied, I think. I keep telling him he worries too much, but he's stubborn that way. Let me go and get him for you, I'm sure a good distraction will help ease his mind." She left them to retreat to the kitchen where the sound of water rinsing a metallic surface could be heard, and soon a large man with a potbelly and muscles to boot came out wearing a thin smile.

"Cye! Good to see you, my friend," his voice would have carried over the very waves of the ocean nearby if he hadn't turned it down to a reasonable level. He was busying himself with a towel and a glass as he approached.

"Mr. Kimura, hello! Oh, Julia, this is Mr. Kimura, the amazing chef here," he introduced. Julia made sure not to grit her teeth. This wasn't part of the plan, though she smiled politely.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kimura."

"A pleasure, young lady," he looked back at her companion. "I'm sorry, Cye, but I should really get back to the kitchen."

Cye furrowed his brow as he leaned towards him. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine, my boy, I'm…I just have a lot on my mind. Please, enjoy your meal," he bowed casually before he left them, but not without her noticing that he never once stopped cleaning that glass.

Julia attempted to break the odd silence between them. "Well, I've certainly had livelier conversations, but that does seem typical of people working in the service industry here in Japan, right?"

"That's true, but…I'm a little worried. Maybe I'm just overreacting, but..." He gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, would you mind if I went to talk to him alone for a moment?"

The date was quickly going off script, but she gave him a snarky grin. "Do I mind being abandoned so you can console your friend? Such a gentleman," she chuckled softly. "Go ahead, I'm going to eat."

"Thanks, I won't be more than a few minutes."

As he left, Julia stared at his back, the teasing expression wiped from her face. when he was out of sight and the missus wasn't looking in her direction, she went through her purse and pulled out a tiny plastic bag. She removed a pill from inside with a frown; she hated to have to resort to drugging him this way, but Mr. Kimura might not be as trustworthy as she'd hoped.

She couldn't help but feel a little dirty as she let it drop into Cye's drink. _It's going to be fine_, she reassured herself. _You knew you were going to have to resort to doing things you didn't want to when you agreed to this. Just remember why you're here in the first place._ She tucked the baggie away and tried to eat, but she sighed fitfully when she realized she wasn't very hungry anymore.

True to his word, Cye came back another minute later, looking more perplexed than he had when he left.

Julia quickly hid her own feelings behind the mask of a smile. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He ate with as much enthusiasm as she did, glancing every so often towards the kitchen. It was making her nervous. Had Mr. Kimura slipped? "I hate to cut this short, but would it be alright with you if we parted ways after dinner?"

"Of course." Was he trying to flee without raising suspicion? "It's no problem at all; I can see you really care about your friend. It's sweet." That seemed to be just what he needed to hear as he perked up a bit.

"I really appreciate it. Next time will be my treat."

"Ha! Careful, those are dangerous words you're playing with," the two broke the tension with a light laugh, and casually went back to their conversation. She kept a close watch on his drink , the nerves in her stomach finally settling when the glass was nearing empty and Cye tried to stifle a yawn.

She let a smirk slip onto her lips. "I'm sorry, am I boring you?"

"No, no, it's not you. I'm awfully sorry about that," he said, grabbing his cup to polish off the rest of the contents. His brow knit together as he swayed in his seat. "I don't…feel so well…"

That was her cue. Julia stood up, purse in hand as she removed a cell phone. "Just relax, Cye. You don't need to worry about a thing." She dialed out, waiting for the other end to pick up. When it was answered, there was nothing but silence on the other end.

"He's ready," she hung up with a soft beep from the device and put it away. The auburn-headed man tried to stand up, but instead fell sideways, grabbing a chair on his way down as it sent a loud crash through the dining hall.

"Cye? Cye, honey, are you alright?!" The panicked voice of Mrs. Kimura rang through the empty restaurant as she hurried to his side, drawing forth her husband from his self-imposed exile. She knelt by the unconscious body, then looked up at Julia.

"Call an ambulance, dear, quickly!" She ignored her request as the redhead let an unsettling gaze land on the husband.

"I admit, I was a little worried you were going to give us away when he went back there to console you, Mr. Kimura. But everything worked out, and a deal is a deal," she said coldly, stepping over the body to approach him.

Though his wife was confused as she watched the interaction, Mr. Kimura stood with clenched fists. When Julia presented him with an envelope, he quickly went to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor.

"Please! I don't know what Cye has done to anger you, but I humbly ask that I take his place, whatever the punishment is!" The front door's bell chimed as Itsuki came through the door and headed straight for the unconscious man, hauling him over his shoulder with ease. Julia set the envelope on the nearby table.

"…Get up, Mr. Kimura. Tend to your wife and your business; do yourself a favor and forget that Cye Mouri ever walked into your restaurant this evening." As she turned and made her way out of the building, she took out several hundred yen to pay for the meal and left it on a table near the door. They were speechless when she and Itsuki exited, but when the door closed, even she could hear the muffled cries and yells behind the glass-paned windows.

...

With Cye sleeping soundly in the black sedan's backseat, Julia found herself staring out the passenger's window at the buildings and cars that passed them by, her thoughts wandering.

_You really had them convinced, didn't you?_ She pondered, taking a moment to glance at the unconscious form in the side-view mirror. _Hell, you probably would have even had me fooled if I hadn't known better._ She turned back to the window to watch as dark clouds began to creep towards the shore.

* * *

"I can tell you what it isn't, but what it _is_, I have no idea."

Dais and Kayura stood side by side as they gave the Warlord of Venom some space. Neither wanted to get too close to his tables – Sekhmet inwardly sneered at the idea that they were more afraid of his experiments than him.

He had been busy toying with the remains of the saboteur, studying them and subjecting them to a few tests before they had decided to barge into his room uninvited. He was not thrilled about that, but he held his tongue.

"You must have some idea of what it was made of, or even a guess," the Lady Ancient pressed, her fingers tightening on the staff.

Sekhmet let out a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. He had donned his subarmor as a precaution rather than work with such a dangerous substance without it.

"Lady Kayura, I know every poison and toxin that the Nether Realm has to offer. The only thing that comes close is the poison my armor generates naturally. What I do know is that it must have been a mix of chemicals, but without a proper sample, it's impossible to say what."

"Then with that knowledge, couldn't you recreate it? Don't you have specimens around here somewhere?" Dais waved a hand, gesturing to the room at large.

The green-haired warlord turned his back to them, glad that neither could see him roll his eyes. He was insulted with the implication that he couldn't figure it out. He wasn't an amateur, he just didn't have enough to analyze.

"I already told you, I know what the Nether Realm can and can't produce. Whatever this-," he prodded one of the strips of leather that hadn't been vaporized. "-was, it isn't plant- or animal-based. Nothing can even come close, not as a gas."

That seemed to shut them up, at least until Kayura spoke up again. "…Alright, Sekhmet, then what can you tell us?"

"Not as much as I'd like," he half-muttered. "It chews through soft materials like acid, so don't let it touch your skin. Hard metals, like our armor, start melting and can cause burns under extended exposure." He turned to face them, crossing his arms and offering them a shrug. "Essentially things you're already aware of."

"Great. So, unless Zusadoun sends another saboteur that we manage to catch in the act, we are no less ignorant about our new foe," Dais pinched the bridge of his nose.

If he had eyebrows, he would have raised them. "Zusadoun? Is that his name? Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, does it?"

"Its what the prisoner said before she released the gas, yes. Is that ringing a bell for you?"

"Not in terms of it being familiar, no. But it isn't Japanese, modern or ancient, I can tell you that much."

"We're aware that it isn't. Do you have a point?"

Sekhmet scowled for a moment before he shifted towards a small catalog of books, browsing through the titles. "My point is that if this Zusadoun isn't Japanese, then maybe he isn't from the Nether Realm and maybe this gas isn't either." Pulling a tome from its home with a great deal of care, the warlord started to flip through page after page.

"Not from the Nether Realm?" He didn't have to see her to hear the concern in Kayura's voice. "That can't be, no one can just come and go as they please anymore. Not since we closed the tori gates."

"Unless they took a little jaunt while the gates were still open," Dais murmured. "We were all so focused on the invasion, and then going after the Ronins that it wouldn't have been impossible for Zusadoun to go to the mortal world, gather what he needed, and then come back. Sekhmet?"

"Just a moment…Here," he didn't offer the book, but he tilted it enough for them to see. "It still isn't spot on, but the chemical reaction is similar." There were several hand-drawn illustrations of grain-sized substances and instructions on how they might be prepared. He tapped a finger on one. "Saltpeter. Mix it with sulfur or charcoal and you could get a plume similar to the one you saw, but it wouldn't do any real harm and you can't find it in the Nether Realm." He shut the text closed, not caring if the two had finished reading it.

"I don't suppose knowing that would narrow the possibilities as to what created the gas, would it?" Kayura asked. Sekhmet's piercing gaze went back towards the bookshelf.

"If anything, it makes it even more difficult to guess at. I need a sample to determine what it is, but perhaps it can be safely said that Zusadoun only has a limited quantity at his disposal. If he can only get it in the human world…"

"That could explain why it hasn't been used on us just yet. He might not know how deadly it could be to humans," Dais mused.

"Keep digging, Sekhmet," the Lady Ancient said. "Maybe one of your books hides the answer to that missing ingredient. In the meantime, let's see if any of our 'allies' have heard of this mysterious Zusadoun."

As they left, the Warlord of Venom let out a quiet groan, gently resting his forehead on the bookshelf. As much as he enjoyed playing with poisons and developing new ones, he was not looking forward to pouring through tome after dusty tome to find an answer, especially since he didn't know what he was looking for. Regretting that he had ever opened his mouth, he took a seat on a nearby cushion and set the book down; it was going to be a long night.


End file.
